


it’s so quiet here (and i feel so cold)

by letusbebrave



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-05 07:42:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letusbebrave/pseuds/letusbebrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye had never been so terrified. If it hadn’t been enough to see Jemma collapse backwards, now she was watching what seemed like gallons of blood pouring from the girl. Skye couldn’t panic. She couldn’t freeze. She had to be able to act.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

The impact was like nothing she had ever felt before.

One minute she was walking through the dark storage with Skye and the next moment she was on the ground. The wind was completely knocked out of her. She _couldn’t breathe_. Her hand reached up until she grabbed something. She couldn’t breathe.

_Everything burned_.

Jemma never expected to be shot—but she never realized how painful it would be.

The floor was just concrete and cold. Her shoulder was still on fire.

For the pain she thought she knew—it wasn’t as bad as the pain that came as Skye grabbed her and _dragged_ her out of the line of fire ( _even though Skye cried apologies the entire time)_.

Jemma didn’t mean to scream as loudly as she did. It felt like she was being burned form the inside out. She shouldn’t be bringing attention to them, but she couldn’t help the _blood-curing_ scream from coming out. This hurt worse than anything she had ever felt before.

The screams died out, but the pain didn’t go away.

Gunshots rang in her ears, but Jemma wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything until she caught up with her breathing.

“Simmons,” Skye cried as she finally stopped pulling the girl out of harm’s way.

It took a few moments for Jemma to be able to say anything. “I… I was shot…”

Denial.

Jemma knew that she needed to snap back to reality, but she had just been _shot_. She could still hear gunshots. There wasn’t time for her to process. She had to get up. There was no time for her to feel the pain and process. Her gaze dropped to where she had been shot. Jemma felt lucky that she was somewhat used to blood. It didn’t make her squeamish, even when the blood was her own and quickly soaking up her shirt.

“I have to get Ward,” Skye cried as she went to move, but Jemma’s hand reached to grab Skye’s arm and stop her.

“No, we can’t,” Jemma moaned as she released Skye’s arm and sat up.

“You’ve been _shot_.”

“We’re in the middle of a mission. Me getting shot…” Jemma stopped as she winced when she leaned against a storage bin. A whimper of pain escaped her only once she brought her hand up to touch the wound.

There was so much blood.

Her fingers trembled as she brought them away from the wound and just stared at the blood for a moment. Her head hit with a thud against the bin. It was a lot of blood.

Jemma knew that the shock would wear off soon.

Whatever pain she _thought_ she was feeling would be nothing compared to that.

“I need… I need a tourniquet,” Jemma said as she finally opened her eyes again. She couldn’t feel her fingers. She couldn’t feel her _arm_. There was so much blood. Jemma knew that the only way she would survive would be to cut off the circulation to the limb. “G-Give me your jacket… and your belt.”

All Jemma could focus on was leading Skye through what needed to be done.  

* * *

Skye had never been so terrified.

If it hadn’t been enough to just see Jemma collapse backwards, now she was watching what seemed like gallons of blood pouring from the other girl. Skye couldn’t panic. She couldn’t freeze. She had to be able to act.

She _had_ to save Jemma.

She stripped off her jacket and belt as quickly as she could. Her own hands trembled as she waited for instructions from the girl.

“Grab—grab that wrench thing,” Jemma commanded as she lifted her non-inured arm to point towards a little bit away. Skye quickly moved to grab the wrench and come back to Jemma’s side. She didn’t know why they would need that, but she couldn’t ask questions. Just reacting was more than Skye could handle. “And I need… I need something to bite down on.”

“Why?” Skye asked. Her voice shook. There were tears and snot running down her face, but she didn’t have the motivation to wipe them away. All she could do was focus on Jemma.

“I’m going to scream a lot when you do this. I can’t… I won’t draw those people to us,” Jemma muttered, but Skye just nodded and found the quickest thing for Jemma to bite down against. She just ripped a section of her jacket before handing it to Jemma. “Okay. Now… bundle the jacket up and put it on my wound… _hard_.”

Skye grimaced. How could she cause Jemma more pain?

“It’s okay, Skye,” Jemma soothed. It should have been the other way around, but still, there was Jemma looking after her. “You have to do it.”

Even the words didn’t make the action of pressing something to Jemma’s wound make it any more pleasant. The moans of pain destroyed Skye, but she kept going. She had to stop the blood flow, right? Skye had to think about it as making Jemma _better_.

“Okay. Now, the belt,” Jemma instructed and Skye followed her instructions to the detail. “Wrap it around my shoulder and under my arm. Even just moving her shoulder made Jemma grimace. “Now take the wrench and put it through the belt as well. I’m going to… I have to put this in my mouth now. Once—Once it’s as tight as it can go. You have to turn the wrench as much as you can.”

Skye shook her head.

“No, you have to turn it as much as you can, even if I _beg_ you to stop, okay?”

“Jemma,” Skye begged as she continued to shake her head. “I can’t… I can’t…”

Jemma brought her hand that still worked to grab Skye’s hand that rested on her thigh. “You can. I trust you. You can do it,” Jemma said as she gave as much of a squeeze as she could manage. “Just—just talk to me during it okay? Your voice will help me stay here.” Jemma knew that it would be easier for her to pass out, but that wouldn’t do them any good. There was still a mission to be finished. She needed to be awake for it. “And kiss me first.”

That was a command that Skye took no time in doing. Her lips and hand that wasn’t holding pressure on the wound were on Jemma’s face within a second. Everything that she needed was there. Skye had to do this for Jemma. _Her_ Jemma.

Skye’s tears hadn’t stopped when she pulled away. There was a slight nod from Jemma before Skye helped put the piece of fabric rolled up in Jemma’s mouth.

The screams were unbearable.

Skye never thought it would be possible for her to hear that amount of absolute pain coming from Jemma. Even with it being muffled, the screams made their way into Skye’s ears and everything inside of her trembled. She couldn’t even imagine what Jemma was feeling and she hadn’t even begun to turn the wrench.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” Skye tried to sooth Jemma as much as she could. Her free hand stayed on Jemma’s face as long as it could before she begun to turn the wrench. “Just stay with me. You’re… you’re the best thing that’s happened to me. There’s still so much we need to do. We can go visit your parents this Christmas, okay? I should have said yes when you invited me last year, but I was scared.”

Talking seemed to calm Jemma down, but then she turned the wrench again and the screams started back up. “Focus on me, Jem,” Skye begged as she watched the other girl’s face. If Jemma had to go through the pain, Skye wouldn’t disgrace the girl by looking away. She had to be strong. Skye was here for the girl.

Jemma couldn’t die.

Not before Skye told her…

No.

“You’re going to be okay. And we’re gonna do so much. And I’ll show you… I’ll show you the favorite places I lived when I was in the van.”

The scream that came from the final twist was the worst.

Skye knew that she would hear it in her nightmares.

Skye’s hands shook hard as she finally moved them for the makeshift tourniquet. The screams stayed echoing over and over within her mind. “Jemma,” Skye asked as she slowly took the cloth out of Jemma’s mouth. Her hands quickly went to soothing over the girl’s face once the fabric was discarded. Her thumbs wiped away the tear tracks on Jemma’s cheeks.

They were covered in sweat, tears and blood. It looked like there had been a murder ( _there almost had been_ ).

Jemma mumbled something and Skye just leaned in closer. “What?” Skye asked as she kept her hands moving to try to sooth the other girl as much as she could ( _she knew how much Jemma loved her hair being played with; she knew that the other girl took physical comfort when it was needed)._

“Oww,” Jemma said again, but this time her eyes opened to meet Skye’s. Just hearing Jemma speak made Skye breathe a sigh of relief. “You have to—you have to go help May and then… then come back for me..”

Skye knew that shaking her head would make no difference to Jemma, but she did it anyway. She wanted to stay with Jemma. She needed to stay with the woman that she _loved_ ( _who loved her back_ ).

But staying with Jemma wouldn’t save her.

She had to leave to be able to do that.

* * *

Hours must have passed before Skye came back to her.

Jemma’s gaze went in and out of focus as she tried to stay awake. There had been so much blood—it had stopped now, but she was still covered in it.

She had repeated the entire periodic table _three_ times before she couldn’t remember it anymore.

The dizziness had a benefit—Jemma couldn’t feel her arm anymore ( _she knew that wasn’t a good thing_ ).

It was when the blackness began to cloud her vision that Jemma began to really worry.

Her lungs made it seem that she was trying to breathe underwater. All the oxygen was fought for.

Jemma couldn’t tell if Skye was real when she saw her again. The girl appeared in a blur in front of her. She wanted to speak—she _would_ have spoken if it were possible. All she could do was moan a little as the world came in and out of focus in front of her.

Skye’s hands on her face helped bring her back. Her eyes blinked open again at the woman’s voice.

_Jemma_.

 “Ward! Get her _now_ ,” the command didn’t come from Skye. Jemma tried to focus on the person who was behind the voice, but she couldn’t. Her head rolled backwards before she pulled it back to look at Skye before her world was spinning again.

A scream was _ripped_ from her as her shoulder hit something on her way up and Jemma remembered why she liked the dizziness again.

Her entire shoulder _burned_. She wasn’t sure if there had been a fire inside of her, but it surely felt that way. Even through the sobs of Skye, Jemma couldn’t stop screaming.

_Hell_.

There was no better way to describe what she felt.

It all stopped when she felt a needle hit her leg.

Silence.

* * *

Silence wasn’t a good thing.

Jemma screaming wasn’t a good thing.

But at least with the screams, Skye knew that Jemma was still alive. She knew that the other girl was _alive_. May had given her something and Skye had just sobbed when the screaming stopped.

Out of relief—out of pure torture.

May was probably the only one strong enough to hold her back when Ward finally carried Jemma away off into a helicopter that didn’t have room for any of them.

May’s hands were strong, but still soft as she led Skye through the entire thing. They weren’t picked up until later. Skye didn’t break down again until she was alone in the bathroom washing the blood ( _Jemma’s blood_ ) off her hands. Even then, the team didn’t leave her. May and Ward stayed with her. She wondered if she was a risk now.

She had been reassured that they were doing everything they could to save her arm.

Coulson was the only one allowed back past the doors.

Fitz, _poor_ Fitz, had tried to explain the injury more to her. Skye didn’t know how bullets worked up close—all she had seen was in the movies and TV shows. Fitz made her realize how _devastating_ a bullet to the shoulder could be. He used big words ( _like brachial plexus and subclavian)_ that made her hands only shake more. He relayed facts about how the bullet could have hit a nerve system and if that was the case, that she might never regain use of her arm.

All Skye needed to know was that she was alive.

They could deal with everything else after that.

Skye didn’t ever want to come that close to losing Jemma again—this was the second time they had fought death.

_How many times could you cheat death until it won out?_

* * *

“I love you.”

The words were deliberate.

They didn’t slip out of her mouth. Skye meant them. She loved Jemma.

She wanted the words to be the first thing Jemma heard from her. Even though the other girl couldn’t respond—even with that tube in her throat. It was all she needed to say to Jemma.

Jemma _had_ to hear her.

Skye wouldn’t have said it if she didn’t mean it. The words—the meaning—it wasn’t hardwired into her mind. She had known for a while that she had these _feelings_ , but now… now it was so clear. Skye wasn’t a leader, she wasn’t a team player—she had been alone for so long. But she didn’t want to be alone anymore. Skye had never meant to fall in love, in proper, actual love, but it had happened. And she needed Jemma to be alright.

They had gotten to the hospital. Skye had tried to do everything right.

This was how the story had to end.

They were at the hospital. She had to wake up.

Where was the click? Where was the end of the scene where everything worked out for the best? They had gone through it all.

Skye needed her happy ending.

Jemma deserved hers.

“I love you, so much,” Skye repeated. All she needed was a sign that Jemma could hear her. All she needed was for the girl to do _something_ to let her know. “I should have told you earlier. Just—just please. Please wake up. I love you. Don’t leave me. Please.”


	2. cannot fix me up (my darling)

Skye hadn’t talked to anyone since the first night.

There was no use. The doctors couldn’t tell her anything. Nobody could tell her _anything_ that was of use to her. She didn’t need to be comforted. All she needed was for Jemma to wake up. Unless someone could promise her that, they didn’t get any of Skye’s time.

It was Coulson who finally broke her silent streak.

He didn’t even have to speak for Skye to know that there was something wrong.

_Majorly_ wrong.

“You won’t look at me,” Skye noted.

Coulson didn’t turn around from his stance that pointed away from her. Everything in his body language screamed that Skye shouldn’t ask. She couldn’t help it—Skye knew that he was the only one with real answers. There wasn’t any good news coming from the way he entered the room. No, if it were good news, they would have sent Fitz or Ward. Instead, Coulson had entered the room she had taken over as her personal bedroom. They had promised to be honest with each other. Ever since the truth about her parents came out, Skye knew P.C. wouldn’t lie to her. Even if it would break her, he would tell her the truth. “Just tell me.”

Her legs ached when she stood up.

Sitting when she got the news would be too cliché.

“Agent Simmons suffered—“

“Jemma,” Skye corrected. They weren’t talking about some random agent—they were talking about _Jemma_. If Coulson was going to talk to her about what was happening, he needed to use her name. Skye wouldn’t let him take the easy way out of it. It was personal to all of them.

“Jemma suffered significant blood loss,” Coulson corrected. “Even with the surgery, they aren’t sure about the amount of damage that was done to the arteries and nerves. If she wakes up…”

“ _When_ ,” Skye corrected again. “When she wakes up.”

Skye wouldn’t believe anything else. Jemma had to wake up. This wasn’t the way the story ended. Coulson said more about her condition, but all Skye could picture was a grave with a very familiar name on it.

“Her heart stopped during the operation. They were able to revive her. They’ve done everything they can.”

Skye shook her head. It wouldn’t be enough until Jemma was awake again. If she was still unconscious, they weren’t doing enough.

“No—they have to wake her up. She _has_ to wake up.”

“Skye…”

“No!” Skye threw her arms up to get away from Coulson’s reassuring touch. “Don’t touch me. They need to do more.”

The look on Coulson’s face was enough for Skye to know that they weren’t going to do anything else.

If she woke up or not, it wasn’t in any of their hands anymore.

* * *

Skye had never realized how close the line between life and death was.

Jemma laid in the bed unconscious—there didn’t look like any life was left in her.

Did that count as death?

This was the closest to death there was and Skye could only watch.

Fitz had told her about the medically induced coma. They were taking her out of it after a few days and then it would be up to Jemma. Skye didn’t buy that. If it had all been up to Jemma, the other girl would be awake by now. There had to be something stopping Jemma from awaking. A bullet in the shoulder—that was just a flesh wound. The bullet hadn’t hit her heart or her head. They could still come back from this.

Jemma could still come back from this.

Skye couldn’t even convince herself anymore. The first day after lifting the coma proved her wrong. There was no motion, no notion of life behind Jemma’s body.

It was the second day that something happened.

It wasn’t the way that Skye imagined Jemma waking up. There wasn’t any kisses or her confessing her love back to Skye. No. The movies were all wrong. Skye had expected that Jemma would awake rested and wiser than she went in. There would be silence and trouble speaking—but Jemma would remember everything that had happened.

Instead there was crying.

Cries of absolute anguish and pain.

No.

It was nothing like Skye imagined.   

* * *

_“Please_.”

The word came out as a plea for help. Jemma wasn’t sure if anyone heard her. She couldn’t remember anything. All she could see was this white _pain_. There was no other way to describe it. Her surroundings disappeared—all Jemma could feel, see, hear, smell—all her senses merged together with absolute pain.

It had taken over everything.

All the adrenaline had worn off. Jemma didn’t know how long she had been laying like this—she didn’t know anything. All she did know was that her entire body burned.

Her hand caved into a fist on the bed sheet. The one word was the only thing she could say.  

“ _Please_.”

For a moment, she didn’t know what she was begging for. It wasn’t for someone to help her or to hear her.

No.

The pain didn’t give her hope that someone could help her. There was no hope in her horizon. Jemma was alone and in more pain than was conceivable.

No.

In those moments, Jemma Simmons was begging for death.

Everything changed once she heard a voice from behind the pain. Even though the sobs wouldn’t stop and through the noise of the nurses, Jemma recognized the voice and no longer wished for death.

The soft murmured words started to flood through her ears. Jemma couldn’t tell what the words were—but just the voice made her relax again.

The pain relief wasn’t instantaneous like one would have hoped. Instead, it took a while for the screaming pain to disappear into a dull throb. Here eyes fluttered open and shut. The pain left before the rest of her senses fully came back.

_Skye_.

The word must of come out of her as well because within a moment, the girl was at her side. Her sight stayed gazed over for a few more seconds before Jemma blinked rapidly to try and clear her sight.

Touch.

It returned after she could see clearer. Skye’s hands were warm against her cheeks. The tears had been wiped away with the girl’s soft fingers. Jemma would have time later to analyze how Skye looked exactly—but for now all she focused on was the calm that the other girl brought to her.

“ _Hello_.”

It was all Jemma needed to say for a smile to break out on Skye’s face.

“Hi.”

* * *

Skye stood near the door when the doctor finally came in. There were still tests that they needed to do. It had been over a week since Jemma was conscious. A part of Skye knew that she should leave the room—but she couldn’t stand to not be in the same room as Jemma. All it took was one simple look from Jemma for Skye know she could stay.

Half of the things Skye couldn’t understand, but she watched intensively.

The feet came first. It was all smiles and light talk while Jemma wiggled her toes and moved her legs slightly.

Everything changed when Jemma was asked to raise her arms. The right arm rose with no problem, but Jemma couldn’t even get her left one off the bed. The shock made Skye stand straighter—her body moved from its slouched position on the frame of the door. Fitz had mentioned something about this. Her arm laid limp at her side.

Skye could see the concentration on Jemma’s face as she moved her shoulder, but then there was a wince of pain. The doctor laid a reassuring hand on Jemma’s leg. The words were too softly spoken for Skye to ease drop. Jemma nodded at the words, but Skye could see the disappointment on her face.

There was no time for Skye to even ask Jemma what the doctor had said before the rest of the team entered the room one-by-one.

It was only fitting that Fitz was the first one in.

In the order of knowing Jemma the best, it probably should have been Fitz who got to see her first.

Skye was never one for order.  

She didn’t want to leave the room, but she could give them as much privacy as she could. She stayed leaning against the door—watching as Jemma and Fitz had their own interaction. There was no hug—that wasn’t their thing. But just the look on Jemma’s face told Skye that their conversation was just as important.

“ _Oh Fitz_ ,” the words were followed with Jemma’s able hand sliding into Fitz’s. The moment was intimate and even just watching made Skye feel unwelcomed. There was their secret world happening there. Skye knew that she would never fully understand it. She had hit it right on the dot when she had told Fitz about the psychic link the two possessed. There wasn’t anything in Skye’s life that could compare ( _there was a part of Skye that didn’t think she could ever compare to their relationship_ ).

“How is she?” The whispered question brought Skye’s gaze away from the intimate moment. Grant couldn’t have come over at a better time.

Fitzsimmons deserved a moment away from her observation.

* * *

Jemma didn’t want to be in the hospital wing for longer than absolutely necessary.

Ever since she woke up, medical tests and people staring at her like she was a failed science experiment had plagued her entire days. It only made her more frustrated the more she couldn’t move her arm. Even when the doctors were gone, Jemma would try to move it. She needed both of her arms to her job.

How would she do her job without two arms?

The truth was that she couldn’t. The recommendation for time off came from the doctors—but she didn’t even consider it until Coulson talked to her about it. It was very PR and she knew that the recommendation was more of a requirement than anything else. Jemma couldn’t be out in the field with only one working arm ( _and intense, immobilizing bursts of pain in her shoulder)._

And Fitz—poor Fitz. He argued that he could take a break with her, but how could she let that happen? Even though she had dragged him into the field, she could tell how much he loved it. There would be another biochemist ready to take her place. One day she could go back.

One day… right?

It was Skye who was the most surprised by it all. Jemma could hear her arguments through the walls as she got stripped away from her hospital gown into something more street friendly. The words coming from Skye’s mouth were certainly not appropriate for the situation.

Jemma was alone when she realized that she wasn’t fit for duty. The tug of the gown off her shoulder had been painful enough, but without the constant drip of morphine in her system, there was no way for her to get the shirt over her shoulder. The arguments from Skye faded out as Jemma realized what truly had happened to her. She had been distracted by comforting everyone else—but she hadn’t realized what had been taken away from her. Not only the ability to do her job, but also the ability for more than that. Jemma had tried to hard to not think about all of it. Thinking about the immense damage done to her nerves wasn’t something that she wanted to think about. No amount of physical therapy could take away the trauma that had been done to her body.

She didn’t even notice that she had made her back onto the bed before Skye walked back into the room. Her flushed cheeks gave away the argument she had been having, but the disappointed look told Simmons that nothing had been accomplished.

Jemma still didn’t have her job.

She didn’t have her job and she couldn’t even _dress_ herself.

“What’s wrong?” Skye asked as she moved towards the bed. Jemma’s head shook quickly as she wiped away the fallen tears. “Hey.” The concern was etched upon Skye’s face—all disappointment had faded away. “Jemma.”

“I’m fine,” Jemma argued as she pushed the tears back more. Just another thing that was a bit harder with only a single arm.

Skye just sighed and Jemma knew that it would be pointless to lie to her ( _but it didn’t mean she had to say the exact truth_ ).

“I just—I need a nurse.”

Jemma always seemed to forget how easily Skye could see through everything she said. The woman made no effort to move. If anything, she did the opposite of what Jemma asked for. Her hand grasped at Jemma’s bare knee. “Jemma.”

“Just call the nurse! ” Jemma exclaimed loudly before she closed her eyes. It was _embarrassing_. She couldn’t even dress herself. Here she was practically naked on the bed with no way of dressing herself without inflicting shattering pain through her body. She needed help, but Jemma never wanted to be a burden upon anyone—especially Skye. The anger wasn’t at Skye ( _even if it was directed at her_ ). “Just call the nurse and _leave_. Leave me alone!”  

There was silence and Jemma thought for a moment that Skye would do what she asked. The embarrassment had turned into hot tears on her face. This wasn’t something she wanted Skye to have to deal with.

Jemma had never yelled at Skye—she had never even raised her voice at the girl. Jemma was too embarrassed and ashamed to even lift her gaze to look at the other girl when she left the room.

She didn’t see Skye again until she was back at home.

* * *

“Oh, hello Skye.”

It had surprised Jemma to find the girl standing at her parent’s doorstep with baggage. It had been at least a week since they had spoken last. Regret and shame had filled Jemma’s mind since she snapped at the other girl. All she had been able to think about was maybe it was for the best. Obviously Jemma wasn’t in any state to be holding onto Skye. The other girl didn’t need the responsibilities that came with being with Jemma now. She could still barely dress herself in the morning.

Fitz had promised to design a device to help her—but he was off in the field with the rest of the team. She had conquered how to put on the pants; the shirt hadn’t been a success yet. When Skye hadn’t come back into her hospital room, Jemma knew it was probably for the best for Skye not to come back ( _she wouldn’t dare say it was best for her_ ).

Fitz had told her something about Skye getting back onto the Bus—but Fitz always respected her boundaries. He knew Jemma didn’t want to hear about all the exciting things they got to do on the Bus.

Instead, Jemma was back where she had started. She was back in the same room with the same walls and the same ( _but wonderful)_ parents.

_(Back to the small town that she had fought so hard to escape.)_

But then there was Skye, right at her door with _baggage_.

She hadn’t known whom to expect at the door—but she hadn’t expected _her_. Maybe it was another one of her mum’s friends who had heard about the _poor Jemma_ who had to move back home.

There wasn’t a long dramatic pause or a dragged on silence. As soon as she said the hello, Skye jumped at the opportunity and went for the hug. Jemma was shocked at first. She had definitely not been expecting a hug ( _even though she had been hoping for one_ ). There was a moment of stillness—but then Jemma molded into the embrace. There was a strap pressing against her good arm, but she didn’t care.

She needed to be in Skye’s embrace.

Her hand clenched at the back of Skye’s jacket. There was no way she would be losing this contact anytime soon. Jemma couldn’t hear over the pounding of her heart, but she could feel the way Skye’s lips moved against her skin ( _whispering apologies into it_ ). The words were more than reciprocated from Jemma. It had all been her fault. She shouldn’t have snapped at Skye for just trying to help her.

“I’m so sorry,” the whispered confession barely escaped from Jemma’s lips. Skye’s arms stayed clung around her neck. Jemma always forgot just how much taller the other girl was until she was cocooned around her.

It was all so quiet and _perfect_ , but there was one adjustment of Skye’s arm and Jemma’s entire body shuddered in pain.

Her _bloody_ shoulder.

Jemma couldn’t help but recoil from the pain. Her body tensed. The tension moved from her burning shoulder all the way up to her face and down back to her toes.

Skye jumped backwards as if she was the one who had burned. There was a look of horror on Skye’s face and Jemma cursed herself for reacting so strongly. “I’m sorry,” Jemma apologized as her hand rubbed at her shoulder softly. The pain slowly diminished and left behind a hard throbbing in its place.

“Are you okay?” Skye asked.

It was a loaded question. One that Jemma didn’t have enough time to think about.

“Why don’t you come inside,” Jemma suggested instead.

* * *

The screams startled Skye awake. The screams were horrifying—but they only became worse when Skye realized where they were coming from.

For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was or what she was doing—but the screams and then crying reminded her quickly. Skye didn’t even take the time to put on real pants before she bolted out of the door of the spare bedroom. She had arrived to late in the evening for time for her and Jemma to really _talk_. Skye had been introduced to Jemma’s ( _wonderful_ , _loving, caring_ ) parents, and of course Jemma’s favorite cat. The subject of what had happened, _all_ of what had happened, was avoided by the both of them. It was clear that Jemma had clued her parents into the relationship between the two of them when Jemma’s mum gently suggested the guest bedroom for Skye to stay in. If things hadn’t been so awkward between her and Jemma, Skye might have laughed over the suggestion.

The pursuit down the hallway to find Jemma’s bedroom was not one of Skye’s finest moments. There were tables and a staircase that slowed her down ( _and have her mutter a few swear words)_.

Instinct took over once she was to Jemma’s childhood bedroom and could see the shadow of a figure in the bed. It took merely seconds for Skye to be on the bed with Jemma.

“Jem,” Skye whispered as she slowly pulled the blankets back to uncover the trembling girl. All the crying—it put a very real image in her head. Not only when Jemma had been shot, but also when the girl had woken up ( _terrified and alone_ ).

There weren’t just physical scars left on Jemma.

Neither of them had left that day in the past. It haunted them in different ways ( _for Skye, it still haunted her every day_ ).

Skye’s hands stayed suspended in the air. There was a fear deep within her—she didn’t want to hurt the other girl, but her hands ached to comfort her. Skye would wait for Jemma to make a move. She didn’t have to wait long until the other girl looked up and _threw_ herself into the other girl’s arms. 

Jemma’s arm locked around Skye’s neck. The sobs coming from her drowned everything out for Skye. All she could focus on was the fact that Jemma was trembling in her arms and how she could fix that. Her arms stayed on Jemma’s lower back—she wouldn’t do anything to possibly hurt the girl’s shoulder more.

The door opened quietly and Skye was the only one to notice it. Jemma stayed tight in her arms while Jemma’s mother peered around the corner. Even in the dark, Skye could notice the relief on her face when she realized Skye was there. All Skye had to do was nod a little and the door shut.

Skye was there now.

She would take care of Jemma.

It was all that mattered.

Skye cursed herself for letting Jemma spend all of these nights alone. She could only imagine the fear that ran threw Jemma’s body. If Skye hadn’t been so… _selfish_ , then she would have been at Jemma’s side through it all. Jemma shouldn’t have had to deal with it all by herself. Skye didn’t _want_ her to deal with it alone. Jemma had her parents, but she shouldn’t have had to do it without Skye.

“Skye…”

The sobbing had stopped and Jemma began to still in her arms. Hours could have passed in the time, but Skye wouldn’t have noticed.

Her hands stayed on Jemma as the girl moved from her embrace of the other girl’s neck. The intimate embrace shifted awkwardly as Jemma just stared at her.

This was where Skye belong.

* * *

“I never realized how British your family would be,” Skye mentioned before popping a cookie that Jemma’s grandma had brought over. Her legs swung off the countertop she was perched upon. Skye had never realized how _awesome_ Jemma’s parents were, and her grandparents. Skye had never been in a family like that—and she realized that _this_ was the family she wanted to be apart of most desperately.

“You’re going to ruin your appetite,” Jemma scolded as she took the plate away from Skye’s hands. “And I can’t believe that my family is _British_. Who would have thought.”

Skye only laughed at the teasing before grabbing another cookie from the plate. “Don’t tease. I was just saying. I never thought of them being all-proper. _Long live the queen_ ,” Skye teased with a smirk before taking a bite of the cookie.

“Oh you Americans,” Jemma just shook her head at Skye’s crappy impression. “We do _not_ sound like that. And nobody ever says that.”

“I watched the royal wedding. I know how you Brits do.”

That _definitely_ called for an eye roll. “That doesn’t even make grammatical sense,” Jemma said before stealing the last bit of the cookie from Skye’s hand with a smile. “What did you think my parents sounded like? Have you even heard my accent?”

Mumbled discontent words escaped from Skye’s lips, but it only made Jemma laugh. “When is your family going to be back? I’m sick of getting harassed by their daughter.” Skye teased as she slid off the countertop and moved towards Jemma. They hadn’t had much alone time and the night had been spent of mostly just sleep. Who could blame Skye for wanting some _private_ time with Jemma? Her hands trapped Jemma against the granite countertop. A smirk was kept on her face as she watched Jemma adjust to the position.

“Skye…” Jemma murmured as Skye’s hands grasped at the girl’s hips and slowly moved closer until she could move a few inches and be pressed against Jemma. “This is highly inna—ooh!” Her sentence was interrupted as Skye’s hands moved and the girl pressed the first kiss against her collarbone. “Skye,” Jemma hissed as she tried to resist. It was futile as Skye’s cold hands slipped under her shirt to reach bare skin. “ _Skye_.”

A hand stayed under her shirt, but the other moved to cup the girl’s neck and pull her into a real kiss.

Jemma didn’t realize how hard it would be to do this with one hand. There was no way she was going to break the kiss to discuss it. Instead, she had to use what she had. Nothing was slowing Skye down once their lips were attached. Her movements felt awkward as first. Her hips pressed back further into the counter to give her some sort of balance so she could move her hand from the supporting position on the granite. At least Jemma could be grateful that it wasn’t her dominant hand that lost its use. It was still second nature for her right hand to make the movements. It didn’t stop it from trembling.

They hadn’t even properly talked about everything that had happened yet. Wasn’t that supposed to happen before the kissing? Not that Jemma ( _or Skye_ ) minded. The touch was reassuring—a reminder that Skye still wanted to be with her, still _wanted_ her.

But she had been right about the inappropriateness of the situation. Things had only been more awkward for Jemma when her grandmother walked in on them ( _Skye only kept a knowing smirk on her face_ ).

* * *

The old door rattled with the knocks, no matter how gentle Skye had tried to make them.

Skye didn’t wait for a response. “Mum, really…” Jemma said before she saw that it wasn’t her mother. “Skye.”

There was the awkwardness again. Skye wouldn’t have even thought about trying to help Jemma again ( _after last time_ …), but that was until Jemma’s mother pulled her aside.

“ _I’m about to go up and help her. Unless of course…”_

It was all the motivation that Skye needed. Skye would have more time later to think about how wonderful Jemma’s parents were, how understanding her mom was about everything. Skye was instead fixated on Jemma. The girl had almost gotten her shirt off, but the look of pain on her face showed Skye that the task was more difficult than she had ever thought. Skye could sense the embarrassment as Jemma pulled her shirt down slightly while Skye walked towards her.

“Oh stop it, weirdo,” Skye teased but there wasn’t any true motivation other than to get a smile on Jemma’s face behind it.

“Skye…”

All she wanted to do was keep the situation light. This didn’t have to be anything _either_ of them felt uncomfortable about. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Perhaps it wasn’t the right words because it only caused a harsher fade of pink to fill Jemma’s cheeks. Skye wouldn’t take no for an answer. She wouldn’t take the easy way out again. Jemma’s hand gripped tight to her shirt and Skye knew that there was doubt in her. Skye couldn’t pretend to know why the other girl felt that way—it was just her job to _stop_ that. “ _Please_ , Jem. Let me help you.”

“Just…” For a moment Skye didn’t think she had convinced the girl. Her eyes shut as she waited for the hurtful words to come out of Jemma’s mouth, but instead there was a sigh. “Just be careful.”

“Always.”

Quiet hands—Skye needed to still her hands. They shook with the nerves that came with Jemma finally letting her help. If Skye would have stayed back for any longer amount of time, she knew the anticipation would have been too much.

Skye made sure that her actions were all purposeful and thought through. Cause the least amount of pain. There wasn’t banter or anything like that.

Quiet thoughts and soft hands.

It wasn’t the first time ( _nor would it be the last_ ) that Skye undressed Simmons—but it was different. There was no sexual tension about it. Her eyes stayed focus on the task. It was different than all the times before. Skye took her time and the desire didn’t come from wanting to _have_ Jemma, but rather to help the other girl. The outfit would have been easier to take off if it had been one of Skye’s. Jemma’s style was remarkably different than Skye’s. Even with the injury, Jemma didn’t seem to be slacking off on her outfit choices. With the high collared shirts, it was no wonder it was so difficult to pull it off without hurting the girl’s shoulder.

“I’m going to move your arm a little, okay?” Skye asked as she waited to pull the sweater off. The button up shirt would be easier than the sweater that was layered over it.  

“Careful.”

Skye didn’t know what she expected when she finally touched the wrist of Jemma’s arm. She shouldn’t of been surprised that it was still warm, it still felt the same as it had before. A force of habit brought her thumb to swipe across the skin in a comforting manner. But it hadn’t mattered, because there was no reaction on Jemma’s face. She couldn’t feel it ( _Skye would never be over the shock of that_ ).

Her hands still trembled even after the sweater was off. She had tried so hard to make it as pleasant as it could be, but her hand had accidently touched the bandage covered shoulder and Jemma shuddered. Skye apologized over and over, but it didn’t stop the trembling or fear of touching Jemma again.

Unbuttoning a shirt shouldn’t have been so difficult, but her hands wouldn’t _work_.

“Skye…” Even Jemma could tell that the other girl was a nervous wreck. They both were. Jemma for a completely different reason though. “Did you mean it?”  

The questions threw Skye off guard—had she meant what? The question hadn’t been related to the situation at all. A silent moment passed before Jemma asked the question again. Her eyes never left Skye’s face. It was like Skye was the experiment and Jemma’s focus was zoomed in upon her. “Did you mean that you love me?”

_Oh_.

Skye knew she had been saying something to comfort Jemma the previous night—but she hadn’t realized it was _that._ There was the feeling of her being under the microscope again. It should have been easier for her to admit it again, but the pressure of the build up caused Skye to freeze; her fingers were frozen against Jemma’s shirt.

_Of course she meant it_.

Why couldn’t she just say the words?

“If you don’t…”

“No, Jem,” Skye said quickly. She could feel the girl begin to shift within her arms away from her. The intense look had faded and a look of embarrassment had replaced it. That wasn’t what Skye had wanted. Jemma shouldn’t have been embarrassed for asking it—Skye had been the one to mutter it. “It was supposed to be…” Skye shut her eyes at the start of the sentence, now _she_ was embarrassed. “It was supposed to be more romantic than that.”

A hand moved to her face and the fingers just stayed for a few seconds before Jemma removed it again. Just a reminder that she was there, but then it was gone quickly. “Do you love me?” The constant eye contact wasn’t something she was used to with the other girl. She could tell how important it was to Jemma to hear the answer out loud. “Why did you come here, Skye?”

_Deep breathes._ This was all so much easier when Jemma was unconscious.

“I shouldn’t have left—I shouldn’t have gotten back on the Bus. I don’t belong there…”

“Skye—“

“Let me finish,” Skye interrupted before taking a deep breathe. “I shouldn’t have gotten back on the Bus _without_ you. I just—I didn’t feel right without you there. Because…”

Breathe.

“ _You’re_ my home, Jem. I love those idiots, but this… with you, that’s where I need to be,” Skye added. This was the apology that needed to be given. The Bus hadn’t been the right place for her. Skye had been consumed by regret as soon as she walked out of the hospital room. She had convinced herself that Jemma meant for her to leave for good. Skye had taken the easy way out and she _knew_ it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

* * *

It took another week for Jemma to even allow her to help with the bandage changes.

The awkwardness had started to fade the more Skye helped Jemma dress and undress. They discovered the easiest ways for Jemma to sleep and how to deal with everything that had been thrown at them. The nightmares had slowly begun to fade ( _from both of their minds_ ), but on the nights that Jemma would wake up screaming, Skye was there and knew where the pain meds were.  

Physical therapy wasn’t Skye’s strong suit. Runs in the morning were killer for both of them. Skye couldn’t do the stretches of Jemma’s arm that would make Jemma cry anymore ( _she would only cry harder than the other girl_ ). Skye could _definitely_ help with other parts of the rehabilitation though. Massages became her specialty. She would gladly help with the mirror exercises and calming techniques. She finally understood May’s obsession with all things _chi_.

“Come here,” Skye ordered with a smile as she sat down on the bed. All she needed was instructions and she was sure she’d be able to handle the bandage.

“Really, you don’t have to,” Jemma tried to argue, but it was no use. “I won’t need to keep bandaging it in about a week.”

“Then I have a week to help.”

Days were much easier when Jemma just wore button ups. Skye itched to help her, but the other girl wanted more independence and she knew how to wait to be asked. Jemma was able to shrug off her jacket easily, the shirt was easily unbuttoned, but the hard part came when she tried to shift it off her shoulder without further twisting her shoulder.

It was the first time that Skye had seen the wound since it had all happened.

Without seeing the wound, it was easy for Skye to forget that it had been a bullet that had taken away the use of Jemma’s arm. It was easier for her to forget how Jemma had almost _died_ and bled out in front of her. She couldn’t forget when she was in front of the ragged scar that crossed longer across Jemma’s shoulder than Skye would have imagined.

“It’s from the surgery. They had to go a bit deeper than was expected,” Jemma commented as she pulled the rest of the gauze from the healing wound. Skye had come so close to loosing Jemma. It was the entire reminder that she needed. “If it’s too much, I can do it myself. I know it’s a lot.”

Skye shook her head in response. This wasn’t too much for her. It was just enough to remind her of _why_ they were here. “What can I do?”

Dressing the wound wasn’t the hard part. It was much harder to keep from hurting Jemma while doing so. Just the littlest pressure in the wrong spot could cause all the nerves to start on fire in her system. At least the screaming had stopped, Skye knew the pain hadn’t, but Jemma… _her_ Jem was so brave, _too_ brave.

“You know, there have been so many developments in the fields of nerve recovery. It won’t be too long until—“ As much as Skye loved hearing Jemma go on about science ( _it was hotter than Skye thought it would be)_ , it didn’t mean that she actually _knew_ what the girl was saying. Most of the time, she could understand the general concept, but the word she used… definitely not for a high school drop out. “And Fitz said he could come and try to adjust it to my shoulder for mobility.”

“Poor Fitz, he’s going to come and realize that I’ve taken over as family favorite,” Skye commented with a smirk. The main thing she tried to do was keep a smile on Jemma’s face as they did uncomfortable things. They didn’t need to focus on the pain if they didn’t have to. Happy was better.

“Be nice.”

“It’s not my fault that your mom admitted that she was happy you were with me. Can’t blame me for being better looking.”

“That is definitely _not_ what she said,” Jemma scolded, but it rolled off Skye’s back easily. Skye would be able to hold that over Fitz forever. Skye had becoming integrated into the Simmons household. The open door / separate bedroom policy had been lifted as soon as Jemma’s parents didn’t have to worry about getting up in the middle of the night. Even with the awkward encounter in the kitchen ( _twice_ ) with Jemma’s grandmother, the woman still brought Skye treats and fawned over her. It was what a family was supposed to be. “And leave poor Fitz be.”

“There’s nothing poor about Fitz. From what I hear, he’s got a new crush on the scientist they put on the Bus.”

Skye could see the tension begin to go back into the shoulder as Jemma drew quiet for a few moments. Then there was deep breathing and the tension began to draw away. “Well, he better get over it quickly, because I will be back shortly.”

“Jemma…”

“Don’t Jemma me,” Jemma’s eyebrows were raised as Skye finished putting the fresh bandage upon the wound. “We’re _both_ going to be back on the Bus soon.”

There was the stubborn nature of her girlfriend. It was a weakness and strength all in one. Skye knew that she was stubborn as well, but with this subject—she wasn’t even close. “You don’t need to rush. WE don’t need to—“

“No, I don’t want to have this life, Skye. I _wanted_ to go into the field. I could have stayed and taught or gone to the Hub, but I want to be in the field, I don’t want this life.”

There weren’t tears, just a pure look of determination in Jemma’s gaze. Skye had to remember that not everyone was like her. They hadn’t been thrown into the field without time or reason. The team had chosen this life.

Jemma had chosen this.

Skye had seen how the kids at the “SHIELD Hogwarts” looked at Simmons—there was no way that she couldn’t have a job in an instant if she wanted one. Instead, she chose to go out into the field.

“I got shot, but that doesn’t mean I’m _useless_.”

“Nobody said that, Jem,” Skye argued as she scooted closer towards the other girl. “If you want to go back into the field, you’ll go back into the field. And I’ll be right at your side.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt (in summary) - Jemma gets shot, Skye witnesses it. I took liberties on the direction of the story (telling me I can do what I want is always amazing). This didn’t turn out anything like I expected it to. Forgive me.


End file.
